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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25879213">Wayfinding</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/campitor/pseuds/campitor'>campitor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Expanse (TV), The Expanse Series - James S. A. Corey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bonding, Friendship, Gen, set shortly after Nemesis Games</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:36:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,078</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25879213</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/campitor/pseuds/campitor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"She needs a family, Jim."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Naomi Nagata and Clarissa Mao</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wayfinding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Clarissa and Naomi have so much in common, but I feel like they don't get enough one-on-one interactions in the books. So, I wanted to fix that! A short fic about Clarissa and Naomi finally opening up to each other about their experiences.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Clarissa Mao had shown up on her ship, Naomi had felt her skin prickle with cold recognition.</p>
<p>Jim kept describing Clarissa as a ghost. Naomi hated the comparison. They had argued about it a few times, but the arguments never got anywhere and always seemed to make them both feel worse. Naomi understood why Jim couldn’t forgive Clarissa. She couldn’t blame him, even. She felt the anger too—Clarissa had come so <em>close</em> to destroying their fragile little family. But Clarissa, like Naomi, was a victim of powerful, greedy men. She had made her own choices, true—but Naomi didn’t know how to explain to Jim that you don’t make choices like that unless you feel so cornered, so trapped, that the only way to escape is by combusting.</p>
<p>Naomi knew that she had to talk with Clarissa. She kept putting off the conversation for weeks, coming up with new excuses every time she was alone with the other woman—<em>I don’t want to scare her off the ship already, she probably doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t Alex need me up on the command deck</em>? But the way that Clarissa made herself small whenever she was with anyone but Amos was causing a deep, constant ache to bloom under Naomi’s breastbone in a way that she couldn’t ignore. Normally it was Holden who suffered from insomnia, but lately Naomi found herself wide awake when they went to bed. She would spend long hours staring into the dark as Jim made the soft animal noises of sleep beside her, and she would think about Clarissa Mao, about how alone she must feel, and Naomi would remember a time when she had felt very alone too.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She sat in the galley, finishing a bulb of tea and flipping through the tasks on her list. Debugging a couple of programs, running a few diagnostics on the <em>Roci</em>’s systems. Her mind kept flickering back to the conversation—<em>discussion</em>—she and Jim had had before bed. “She needs a family, Jim.” Naomi had said very softly. But he had just frowned and retorted, “Well, she tried to kill this one.”</p>
<p>Naomi knew that this was hard for him. She wanted to sympathize, tell him to take his time processing. But this was the <em>Roci</em>—a little ship full of people who were trying their best to be good, even if they had previously done things that were very bad. A ship full of people who had their backs pressed into corners and knew what it was like to let yourself immolate.</p>
<p> She pulled up Amos and Clarissa’s list to distract herself and sighed, a little envious. Sometimes she missed how things used to be on the <em>Cant</em>. Back then, she and Amos would work on the exterior of the ship for hours without exchanging more than ten words between them. She would fall into the soothing rhythm of welding and at the end of the day she would actually feel like she had accomplished something tangible. These days, any pride she felt about the work she completed was immediately swept away by the wave of new tasks waiting for her. The <em>Cant</em> had been her <em>tía</em>, patient and encouraging, and she owed that ship her life. The <em>Roci</em> was like a fussy toddler, simultaneously the apple of her eye and the most frustrating thing in her life.</p>
<p>Scrolling through the list, she saw that Amos and Clarissa were about to do some work on the exterior hull. She sipped at her tea, thought back to her chat with Jim, to the way Clarissa never made eye contact with her. This could be an opportunity, she thought, to try and test the waters with Clarissa. Work was a good icebreaker. If Naomi felt like she had overstepped, they could always talk about the welding. She worried at the corner of her thumbnail and tried to quash the unease in her gut. <em>She needs a family, Jim.</em> Naomi downed the rest of her tea, tossed the bulb into the dishwasher, and made her way to engineering.</p>
<p>“You ‘bout ready to suit up, Peaches?” Amos’ voice drifted from the engineering bay as Naomi’s magboots clicked down the ladder. He smiled when he saw her. “Hey, boss. Need something?”</p>
<p>“Nope. You’re out, big guy. Go get some coffee or something. I need something to do today besides watching diagnostics run.”</p>
<p>Amos’ glanced over to where Clarissa was fussing over an air filter, then back at Naomi. She tilted her head a degree; it was their own secret shorthand that had grown from years of companionship. His grin widened as he caught her meaning. “You got it. Think you two can handle it, Peaches?”</p>
<p>The woman grunted, and then banged the butt of the drill she was holding against the air filter casing. She paused for a moment, seeming to listen for something, and then grinned in victory. “<em>Fucking</em> finally.”</p>
<p>“Teaching her all of your old tricks, I see,” Naomi teased Amos. He shrugged with his hands.</p>
<p>Clarissa strode over toward them and pointed the drill at Amos accusingly. “You need to get your hearing checked next time we dock somewhere. That filter has been driving me crazy for days.”</p>
<p>“Nah, think I’m just good at tuning things out. Make sure the XO doesn’t fuck things up, Peaches. She’s a little rusty with a vacuum welder.” Amos winked at her. Naomi made a rude gesture with her hands and he laughed, clapping her on the back with one big mitt as he made his way up the ladder. Clarissa watched him go. Naomi didn’t think she was imagining that some of the color had drained from the woman’s face.</p>
<p>“Ready to suit up?” She asked to break the tension. Clarissa just nodded. The mask was back on now that Amos was gone.</p>
<p>They went through the little ritual of putting on EVA suits, checking the failure points and seals for each other until they were both satisfied. Clarissa gave Naomi a once-over with a critical eye, adjusting a few of the snaking air tubes a centimeter this way and that until she was satisfied. Naomi was pleased to see it. She liked a mechanic who wasn’t afraid to nitpick. They slid their helmets into place, and Clarissa set the airlock to cycle.</p>
<p>The void outside of the ship was beautiful. Distant stars peppered the sky, making the deep, unknowable black of space seem even darker against their stark white light. Through the suit comms, she heard Clarissa inhale deeply as if she were breathing in fresh air or the smell of good cooking. Or, Naomi’s Belter instinct suggested, as if something was wrong with her air supply. “<em>To gut</em>?” Naomi asked.</p>
<p>“Yeah. Sorry.” Clarissa grabbed the tool kit and began to walk down the side of the ship. Naomi followed behind her. For a moment the only sound over the comms was their gentle breathing. “It’s just, I really thought I wouldn’t see any of this again. Guess it just hasn’t lost its novelty yet.”</p>
<p>Warmth flickered in Naomi’s chest. “I know what you mean. It’s really beautiful.”</p>
<p>Clarissa made a small, embarrassed noise and fell silent again. They clicked across the Roci’s hull, Clarissa ahead and Naomi following a few paces behind. “So,” Naomi asked, “What are we working on?”  </p>
<p>“Port PDC casing. Just making a few adjustments.”</p>
<p>“What’s wrong with it?”</p>
<p>“Nothing. We’ve just got the time and supplies to tune it up a bit.” Clarissa trailed off at the end. Then, mumbling, she continued, “I thought it might help with some of the heat build-up Holden was complaining about.”</p>
<p>Naomi smiled under her helmet. “That’s a good idea,” she agreed. “I’m sure he’ll be grateful for it.”</p>
<p>Clarissa made a noncommittal noise and continued the slow trek down the hull of the <em>Roci</em>. Naomi could hear the slightest uptick in her breathing. She was considering how best to start the conversation they needed to have when Clarissa beat her to it.</p>
<p>“Why’d you tap out Amos and not me? Is there something we need to talk about?” Clarissa’s voice was bristling with tension—not anger, Naomi thought, but deep-rooted animal defensiveness. “I know Holden doesn’t want me here. I guess you probably don’t either.”</p>
<p>“No, I—”</p>
<p>“I mean, I get it. That’s why I’m just trying to keep my head down. I know no one wants me here except Amos, and I think he just feels like he has to take care of me.” She sucked in a shuddering breath, and when she spoke again her voice was small and quivering. “I just don’t have anywhere else to go.”</p>
<p>The words crushed Naomi. Clarissa was inhaling, about to speak again, but she cut her off: “Claire. Stop. Please. I want you here.”</p>
<p>The nickname seemed to surprise Clarissa; she fell silent, her breathing slowing again. Soon they had reached the PDC. Clarissa attached her tether and clicked her boots off, kicking off the side of the ship and using the handle of the casing as a handhold. She lifted it open, her hand hovering on the innards of the mechanisms, and then released another shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“You don’t need to apologize. But I—I’ve been looking for a chance to talk with you. And I kept putting it off because I was scared to. But now I’m ready.” Clarissa let her hand drop a centimeter. Naomi could see that the smaller woman had turned her head just a bit so that she could warily watch the XO from the corner of her eye.</p>
<p>Naomi kicked off so that she was tethered next to Clarissa. She mag-locked their toolkit to the side of the ship and floated over so that she could look inside the PDC. “Some of the connections need to be redone,” Clarissa said brusquely.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I think I see the issue.” She took the appropriate spanner from the toolkit and handed it to Clarissa, who took the free end of the tool. When Naomi didn’t let go of the handle, Clarissa finally raised her eyes to look into her helmet.</p>
<p>Naomi took a deep breath. “I’ve been where you’ve been before. I know how lonely it is. I know what it feels like to think that nothing is going to be right again, and that you just have to suffer through by yourself.” She paused. “But you’re not alone here—the <em>Roci</em> is your home now. Which means that everyone on this ship is your family now.” She released her grip on the tool. Clarissa gave her a slow, wary blink and then turned to face the task at hand. A few beats of awkward silence passed between them, and Naomi made no effort to break them. Maybe she had said all that could be said right now—she could hardly blame Clarissa if she didn’t want to discuss the circumstances that had brought her here, the lonely days in a high-security prison, the medical restraint she had worn like a brand when she had been the <em>Roci</em>’s prisoner. But Clarissa offered:</p>
<p>“I just think there are some things you can’t really make right. I don’t think I can make what I’ve done right. I just have to live with it. I don’t expect you guys to treat me like none of that shit happened or like I’m some changed person. I don’t want that.”</p>
<p>Naomi paused. “I don’t think it’s about becoming a changed person or making things right. I think it’s about being who you always were.”</p>
<p>Clarissa replied by pulling a bolt out from the PDC with excessive force, silently exchanging it for the replacement that Naomi had ready.</p>
<p>Naomi felt like someone had doused her with Saturn ice-melt. She could feel Clarissa’s anger like a tangible thing, radiating hot and lethal from every pore on her body. She <em>knew</em> that feeling, knew what it was like to be smothered by the bleeding embers that fueled her anger at Marco, at Cyn, at the OPA and, most important, at herself. She wanted to shake the mechanic and tell her to let go, to snuff the flames out. Fire warmed you, but it killed you too—if not the flames, then the insidious, poisoning smoke. <em>There’s a way forward</em>, Naomi wanted to say. <em>But you have to want it.</em></p>
<p>She breathed in, out. Nausea bubbled in her stomach. She ignored it, ignored the way her mind begged her not to reopen this wound. “I’m guessing you’ve heard about the <em>Augustín Gamarra</em> by now.”</p>
<p>Clarissa didn’t miss a beat. “The reactor core. Yeah.” Naomi heard her take a long, shaky breath. “I…I get what you’re trying to do. And I appreciate it.” She was utterly sincere, but her voice was sad and distant. “But that wasn’t your fault, not really. You didn’t—you didn’t <em>choose</em> to do that.”</p>
<p>Naomi reached out to grasp Clarissa’s shoulder. The woman tense under her hand, pausing for a split second in her work. “Did you choose to do everything you did? I mean, <em>really</em> choose?” Clarissa’s shoulders rose and Naomi felt the little shudder of involuntary anger that rippled down the mechanic’s spine. “Did you really feel like you were in control?”</p>
<p>There was a long beat of silence. Then, something in Clarissa’s armor cracked; Naomi felt her shoulders droop beneath her hand, some of the anger leaching out. The woman surprised her with a humorless laugh. “You sound like Anna.”</p>
<p>“The preacher?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. You sound just like her.” The welding torch flared up, bright as a miniature star. Clarissa worked silently, and Naomi watched as she redid some of the soldering in the PDC casing. She really was a good mechanic, thorough and critical. The welding torch clicked off after a few minutes, and Clarissa ran her gloved fingers over the new connections with a sigh.</p>
<p>“When I was in the Pit, I thought about how things would be different if I did it all over again,” Clarissa offered unexpectedly. “At first, I thought I wanted to kill my dad, because I hate him. I hate how selfish he is. I hate that he tried to make all of us as selfish as him. I hate that he killed Julie.” She broke down the vacuum welder, packing it back into its case. “But then I realized that if I got to do it all over again, I just wouldn’t do it at all. In the Pit, I had to go to counseling every day, and they always talked about ‘controlling your narrative’. I thought it was bullshit. But then I realized what it meant, and I realized that I don’t want to let the actions of one man dictate my whole fucking life. So, I decided to stop letting him control my narrative. I’m not scared of him anymore.”</p>
<p>Something swelled in Naomi’s chest, big and bright and threatening to spill out into every vein and artery in her body. “I think I know exactly what you mean.”</p>
<p>Clarissa clicked the case of the vacuum welder shut. “I still hate him. I hate him more than anything. But…I guess I still love him too. It sucks.”</p>
<p>“I know,” Naomi said gently. “I’m not sure if that goes away. I still hate Marco, but I still love him too. Nothing’s ever easy, <em>keyá</em>? But, it’s not about Marco or your dad anymore. It’s about us. And I think that, you and me, we can keep each other accountable for that. For making sure it’s about <em>us</em>.”</p>
<p>Clarissa’s laugh was genuine and full. “Now you <em>really</em> sound like Anna.” Naomi smiled, and Clarissa continued: “But you’re right. Nothing’s ever easy. But letting them control us…it doesn’t make things any <em>easier</em>.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Naomi agreed, “It doesn’t.”</p>
<p>The radio crackled to life then with Amos’ voice. “Just checking in. Haven’t heard from you guys in a while.”</p>
<p>Clarissa switched to the public channel. “We’re just finishing up. Should be back inside in ten.”</p>
<p>“Ten-four. I’ll be in the galley.” The radio went dead again.</p>
<p>They began the slow trek back to the airlock. They were silent, but it no longer felt awkward and oppressive. Naomi felt like she had won a victory. She may have only penetrated one layer of Clarissa’s hull plating, but the first layer was often the strongest.</p>
<p>As they waited for the airlock to cycle, Clarissa reached out to touch her arm. “Thank you,” she said, then paused. “I guess I knew that we had a lot in common.”</p>
<p>Naomi smiled in her helmet. “I’m glad we finally got a chance to talk, Claire. I want to be there for you. I want <em>you</em> to be there for <em>me</em>.” She paused, then ventured, “It’s not that Jim doesn’t want you around. It’s just…it’s going to take him a bit of time, yeah?”</p>
<p>“It’s okay, Naomi,” Clarissa replied with surprising gentleness. “I know. I don’t hold it against him.”</p>
<p>They stepped inside the airlock and changed out of the vac suits and back into their jumpsuits. Together they headed to the galley, where Amos sat at the table nursing a cup of coffee, two bulbs of tea already waiting for them. Clarissa and Naomi sat side by side on the bench opposite him. He regarded him in his quiet, considering way, that look that Naomi knew so well by now. “All good, Peaches?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Yeah, Amos,” Clarissa replied with a smile. “Everything’s patched up. We’re all good.”</p>
<p>Amos glanced at Naomi, searching, and then nodded. His face cracked into a wide smile. “Hey boss, do you remember that sushi place back on Ceres? You know, the high-end one with the lobsters in the tank.”</p>
<p>Naomi grinned as Amos launched into an exaggerated story of one of their drunken nights on Ceres station many years ago when he had attempted to steal a live lobster and keep it “as a pet”. Clarissa kept laughing, the sound coming from deep in her belly. They made an odd trio, Naomi thought, but they fit well together. She launched into her own side of the story, and Clarissa commentated as she and Amos bickered over whose side of the story was right. The conversation flowed easily, and the mask Clarissa had worn was gone, replaced with an ease Naomi had never seen on the woman.</p>
<p>An odd trio, she thought again, but trying their best to be good.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Find me on tumblr at pig-wings.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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